Takahiro
by The Androgynous Alchemist
Summary: I was always good with words, until I met you. I almost lost touch with the rest of the world, tripping over my words and becoming lost in conversation. I became distracted in your presence, although I don't think you noticed. You never do.


Authors Note: This is a short piece that bloomed in my head when I should have been listening in class. The 'Love Through The Ages' unit I've been studying in English has been drilling all sorts of idea's into my head. I couldn't resist.

* * *

I was always good with words, until I met you. Writing is a talent that's always felt naturally instinctive to me, like breathing. My hands have a mind of their own, clattering recklessly across the keyboard without so much as a second thought, releasing the creative flow that builds in my head like an abandoned bath filling with water- eventually, it has to overflow; there's no avoiding it, or at least that's what I thought at first.

I found myself experiencing a dilemma that I'd never encountered before, and was quite uncertain how to deal with it effectively. I'd sit at my desk in the dark and lonely evenings, waiting for the inevitable wave of creativity to hit me. Waiting was all I could do, because the words never came. For once in my life, I found myself unable to submerge myself in the fictional world, the alternate universe in which I used to distract myself from the harsh reality of my life- loneliness. I developed a habit of sitting close to the window, resting my cheek against the cold, misted glass as I watched the city become shrouded with darkness, experiencing this peculiar sensation that had become the frequent source of my distraction. I'd sit there for what seemed like hours as the minutes went by, thinking.

I was thinking of you.

I was young then, naive, and blind to the reality of my true feelings. I suppressed them as best as I could, because although I may have been inexperienced in the intimidating world, I know that it would be hard to love you. I knew because you were a man, and society and my father expected me to marry and grow old with a woman that I didn't desire, settle down and have children perhaps, and deceive the world into thinking that I was happy. For a while, I tried to convince myself that this was what the future had in store for me, and that I would have to learn to accept my fate, because it was unavoidable.

I think that I was buried too deep in my own depression to see- it blinded me.

As I grew older, I could no longer ignore these new feelings, the desire I had for you. I knew that there was a choice to be made; I could either be happy or 'normal'. It wasn't too difficult to make the decision- my heart did it for me. I became distracted in your presence, although I don't think you noticed. You never do.

Staring aimlessly into your soft brown eyes, I almost lost touch with the rest of the world, tripping over my words and becoming lost in conversation. I was too busy indulging myself to pay attention, occasionally nodding my head, watching the small tug of your lips flourish into a beautiful smile. The distraction was welcome; I was able to forget about the distance I felt with Haruhiko and my father. I was able to think about the lonely days I spent during my childhood confining myself to the fictional world in my head. I had something to wake up for, something to share my life with other than my inanimate notebook. I use words to express myself, like an artist transfers his feelings onto the canvas with a brush. It's the only way I know how, but for once I struggled to find any words at all.

You left me speechless.

I was suffering from a disease, a feeling that I'd never felt for another human being before. Being in your presence was enough to make me feel breathless. Your kindness, your smile, the gorgeous glitter of joy in your eyes became my motivation. It reminded me that there were indeed some things worth waking up for.

Of course there were bad days, when my heart wrenched with grief, longing and desire. I knew that this hope I lived with just wasn't enough for me to hold on to. I still believe to this day that without a doubt you care for me a little more than you should, as a valued friend, but a little isn't enough worth keeping life on hold for- I'm trying to move forward.

I'd close my eyes and think of what it would feel like if I ever received a kiss from you, what it would feel like to be held by you- much more satisfying and addictive than any cigarette I could have.

A simple touch from you was enough to make me reel. It was satisfying yet so painful to know that I had you so close and within reach, like a taste of the forbidden fruit I knew that I could not have. Yet I continued to savour the sweet taste upon my lips, unable to resist my growing desire for you that grew like a flower. It was close to blooming, but every once in a while it would become battered by the rain and the cold frost, stunting its growth. I was waiting to be picked and cared for.

There is not a single word on this earth that can describe the way I feel for you.

There was once a time that I would have sacrificed anything to be with you.

Like a mother raising her child, I knew that eventually I would have to reluctantly let you go. It hurts me to know that I will never know what it is like to be loved by you; it hurts me more than any weapon could. I could die a thousand times, and still, it wouldn't be enough.

In times of despair and loneliness, I will never regret letting you go, because I know that she will make you happier than I ever could. I'll forever try to convince myself that I did the right thing.

It is because I love you that I am willing to let you go.

I want you to grow old with someone, even if that someone can't be me.

I want you to be happy, because I love you.


End file.
